25 Days of Roski
by AspiringAuthor23
Summary: A collection of Christmas themed Roski one-shots. R
1. Mistletoe

It was two in the morning, and all Rose and Loki wanted to do was return home to their flat and collapse onto their bed. They were too tired now to think of what they would do after catching up on sleep. But if they left, Jackie would be all over them, wondering why in the world they had left so early, because these parties never finished before four in the morning. So instead, Rose wrapped an arm around Loki, willing her eyelids not to drift closed, because she would not fall asleep, not at the one party she voluntarily came to.

The walls around them were decorated in Christmas lights, and garland was draped over the railings on the stairs, the entire room filled with a glow only the festive lights could give off. A Christmas tree, nearly thirteen feet tall, stood in the corner, decked out in the most extravagant of decorations. And the room was packed with people, most of which she doubted even her mother knew personally.

But Loki had still hidden a smile at her excitement when she had first walked in; she was captivated by this Midgardian holiday, and had put up absolutely no fight when her mother had practically forced them to come. He hadn't been that enthusiastic, knowing that even though the beginning of the night might be fun, especially with Rose by his side, by midnight, the fun always began to slow down as she began falling asleep by his side.

And now, as expected, his beautiful Rose was half asleep by his side.

Giving a small smile, he waved his hand slightly, knowing exactly how to wake her up. As long as Jackie didn't see, because he was sure she wouldn't appreciate his tampering with the decorations. But it wasn't tampering, not really; he was simply adding a much needed necessity. After a small wave of his hand, Rose took her head off his shoulder, yawning before raising an eyebrow, her tone accusing. "What did you do?"

His smile widened as he glanced up at the ceiling. After a moment, she followed his gaze, before grinning, tongue between her teeth. "Mistletoe. 'Cause mum didn't leave it hidden away for a reason."

"I never have been one to make your mother very happy."

"Don't even start, she loves you. Even despite all your mischief."

He stole a quick kiss from her before responding. "I do not believe that mistletoe calls for talking, my love. None, in fact, from what I have picked up."

She laughed, rising onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his.


	2. Hot Chocolate

Rose shivered, drawing her blankets around her and cuddling closer to Loki, no matter that his coldness would only make her shivering problem worse; she had been more sensitive to the cold for months anyway, because of the baby. Half frost giant, she should have expected it. Either way, she was used to the sensitivity; she didn't need to distance herself or have him pulling away from her to help, because it didn't help anyway.

He blinked awake after a few more minutes, smiling at her like he did every morning, as if simply seeing her was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She kissed him once, his lips cold on hers, as she tried to hide the constant shivers. She would take a shower or get a jacket later. Right now, she was comfortable by his side.

But he noticed anyway, frowning slightly and pulling his arm from around her, because he certainly wasn't helping with the cold. She sighed quietly, reaching over and slipping her hand into his before pulling his arm back around her.

"Rose, I do not want to make you colder than you already are."

"'m goin' to be cold either way, an' anyway, you don't change it as much as you think you do. I'll be fine, promise. I can warm up later."

He sighed, not responding for a few moments, before he gently pulled his arm from around her once more, slipping out from under the covers. "I'll be right back."

Five minutes later, he came back with a much warmer blanket, as well as two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows. Her marshmallow preferences changed quite often lately, so he had learned a long time ago to let her fill her own drink with the fluffs of sugar. Handing her the blanket so she could wrap up in it, he slipped under the covers before passing over her mug. "Better?"

She gave a small smile, sitting up and filling her mug to the top with marshmallows, before taking a sip. "Thank you."

He smiled as well, kissing her softly. "You're welcome."


	3. Snow

He heard the door close in the other room, and immediately, he was on his feet, heart racing. No, she couldn't have simply left; surely one small fight couldn't drive her away to work on that infernal cannon on a weekend. But, checking near the door, he noted the absence of her scarf and coat, as well as her boots.

No, he had so many things to say to her.

He loved her.

Breathing deeply, he tried to convince himself that she had left without a word for a different reason, tried to convince himself that she was coming back. Repeating this over and over again until it lost meaning, an attempt at calming the panic that was threatening to overtake him, he opened the door and raced outside, not thinking for a moment about what the cold meant for him.

He halted the moment he got out the door, glancing both ways down the street, not sure which way to go. He had to find her.  
And that's when the snowball hit him.

Turning around to look for the source of the attack, he realized that for the first time that year, snowflakes were drifting down from the clouds above, and had accumulated overnight, several inches of snow lying where the grass normally stood. She was laughing at him, hiding behind a tree, another snowball in her hand. She threw it, and with a wave of his hand, it disintegrated in midair.

She came out from behind the tree, hands on her hips. "Hey, that's not fair. No magic allowed."  
Relief was flooding through him, warming every inch of his body as a small smile crept onto his face. No matter what, she could make him happy. No matter that a mere minute ago he was terrified that she had left; she was here now and she wasn't mad. She wanted things to go back to normal—if one could say they had a normal. But before he could reply, his memory caught up with the rest of him, and he began backing away into the doorway once more, where the heat of the building was spilling out into the winter air.

"Loki…?"

He sighed, a period of silence stretching between them. Hesitating slightly, he didn't meet her eyes when he finally spoke, choosing his words carefully. "I have told you of the Aesir, as well as the Jotun, have I not?"  
She frowned, dropping her snowball, a concerned look on her face. "Yeah, what about them?" A pause. "You okay?"  
He gave an unsure nod before continuing. "I cannot stay out here long."

"Why not?" Only then did she seem to notice the fact that he wasn't wearing a coat. "Aren't you cold?"

He hesitated once more. "I am—" He cut himself off, unsure of how to say it, because she was sure to leave him if she knew; she wouldn't want to spend her days with a monster. But he didn't have to say anything, the cold finally affecting him, and the tingling in his fingertips, spreading up his arms and all over his body, ending with his face, told him that the cold had revealed what he couldn't.

She simply stared at him for a moment, before taking another step closer. "You're not from Asgard, are you? You're a…" She searched for the name for a moment, a name he had only spit out once before, when he hadn't been measuring the weight of every word, in a rare moment of vulnerability. "Frost giant?"  
He gave a small nod, silent, simply staring at her boots in front of him. So it was a surprise when he felt her warm fingertips tracing the blue lines on his face, a touch somehow more intimate than any day she had curled up next to him on the couch or than anything he had ever imagined. He didn't understand how she was doing this, standing so close to this monster that his magic masked every day and not being afraid, not being repulsed. But he was grateful.

A few silent moments passed like this, before she slipped her glove back on, and, with a small smile, turned away from him to scoop up some more snow. Already he could feel the absence of her warmth, forcing his attention away from how much he craved her touch, because she was speaking to him. "You never told me what you did for fun on Asgard." And a grin. "Do Frost Giants have snowball fights?"  
With that, she stood up, flinging another snowball at him, and any and all thoughts of this monstrous form slipped out of his consciousness as he smiled back. "I have not heard of them doing so, no. But there is always time for change."

She didn't see him move a single muscle as a snowball hit her side, almost knocking her to the ground, and she laughed, hurrying to retaliate.

Hours later, soaking wet, they went back inside, Rose going to get hot chocolate as he allowed his appearance to return to normal, the warmth helpful, if not a bit uncomfortable, after being _himself_ for so long.  
But he had never been happier.


	4. Candy Canes

She opened the door, stepping into his room despite the silence that greeted her knock. Hands on her hips, she frowned at him as he laid there on the bed, reading a book he had gotten only a few days before. "C'mon, you've been mopin' around for weeks. At least help me decorate the Christmas tree, yeah?" A pause. "An' before you even start, I don't care if gods don't decorate. They do here."

She closed her eyes, exhaling slightly as the loss of the Doctor hit her once more. How many times had she imagined doing this with him? How many times had she imagined living a domestic life with him, putting up a Christmas tree, their children opening presents underneath it as they recounted the many adventures they had had on Christmases past? How many times had she imagined them running outside afterwards, having a family snow ball fight? No. No matter how many times it had crossed her mind, it didn't matter. It was all gone, had faded into the sky at the same moment he had. He couldn't get here, couldn't rescue her. And now she was stuck helping the man who called himself a god, simply because she couldn't stand anyone who had the faintest idea of what was going on around them having to go through the motions at Torchwood.

She shook her head slightly, opening her eyes and forcing herself out of her thoughts, because just the name of the company brought back so many more memories. She couldn't cry. Not now, not in front of him.

After a few seconds, he sighed heavily, eyes flicking upwards from his book, watching her. She simply stared back for a few moments before returning the sigh. "Fine. 'm not goin' to force you to do anythin', even if it would be good for you to get up an' do somethin'."

She returned to the kitchen, still trying to force her mind away from the memories, opening a cupboard and pulling out a box of peppermint candy canes to snack on—not that she was planning to eat the entire box. She turned around as she ripped the plastic wrap, feeling her heartbeat double as she glanced up to see his face only a few inches away from hers. He held her gaze for a moment, pretending not to notice the blush creeping onto her cheeks, brought on by the simple closeness. Of course, it made sense. Last time they were this close, he was nearly unconscious.

Mumbling something about decorating, she ducked around him, pulling out a candy cane and unwrapping it as she dropped the box on the couch. She grabbed a few decorations, sticking the end of the candy cane into her mouth before rising onto her tiptoes to put them on the branches she wanted.

He watched her from the doorway, not even sure why he had come out. Though, he supposed, it could be the fact that she had been so kind to him, so patient despite his cold distance. He owed it to her for helping him get better and putting up with him, no matter how trivial her request seemed. He had to make some effort to be civil. "Is there any way that I could help?"

She stopped moving, glancing over to him and holding back a smile before nodding to a box on the floor. She took the candy out of her mouth. "Yeah, there are some decorations in there. Hang them anywhere."

He gave a small nod before stepping over to the box, looking back up at her as he sifted through it. "What are you eating?"

She turned to face him this time, smiling as she removed the candy once more to speak. "Candy cane. You want to try it?" At this, she held the candy out towards him, not even thinking, because this was something so familiar to her, something she didn't even register wasn't acceptable to do with people she had just met, because _they_ had done it so often. Every morning, she had stolen food off his plate with his fork as they made their way through the TARDIS hallways, headed to the room filled with models of planets, the room where she would choose the setting of their next disaster. He had started it, actually, stealing off her plate the day after he had changed. She had raised an eyebrow at him, asking why in the world he couldn't eat off his own plate, but he had insisted that hers tasted better. So they had taken on the ritual of eating off each other's plates each meal, sharing food as they shared stories and thoughts about the day.

Loki was staring at her offering as if she had gone insane, and she frowned slightly before realizing exactly what she was doing, eyes widening as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry."

And now she was hit with another wave of memories, fighting the tears as she turned back to the tree. A few seconds passed before she gave up, sighing and tossing the ornament she was holding back into the box. "I'll be back out later. Leftovers are in the fridge."

And she disappeared into her bedroom.

He watched her go, sighing slightly. Something had set her off again. She had gotten carried away and forgotten who he was—or more importantly, who he wasn't—and he was going to be alone for the next few hours.

Unless…

She had helped him, and now it was his turn. Grabbing the box of candy canes, he knocked lightly on her door, before barging in just as she had a while earlier. "Rose?"

She was lying on her bed, and opened an eye, drawing the covers closer around her like a shield as she looked up at him. "What?"

He hesitated. Why _was _he here? What _was_ he doing? The logic he had run through in front of the tree all seemed to disappear on him, because he had only known her for a few weeks, had only spoken to her when protesting or thanking her for some service or another. Most of his time here had been listening to her stories when she didn't think he was paying attention or lying on his bed, hating everything that had happened back in Asgard, everything he had done and everything that he had learned, not attempting in any way to repay her kindness.

He didn't know why he was here.

So he held out the box of candy canes. "I thought you might want these to help cheer you up."


	5. Christmas Tree

They decorated as they tore through the box of candy canes, a small pile of plastic wrap all that remained of more than half the candy. She had him working on slipping ornaments onto the higher branches, the ones she couldn't reach easily without getting poked by the needles, while she decorated the lower section of the tree.

If she was honest, when he set his mind to it, he was quite easy to socialize with. Despite the fact that he had never made any attempt to speak to her before this, they were getting along perfectly, even engaging in some cautious conversation, staying away from the topics they both knew affected the other negatively. It was nice, she supposed, and even a bit fun—much better than decorating alone would have been.

Glancing over to check how he was doing, she was surprised to find an ornament floating through mid air to the top of the tree, and grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Loki…"

He poked his head out from behind the other side of the tree, trying to look as innocent as possible. "What?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Of course he wouldn't own up to it. She almost disregarded it completely, almost dropped it, but instead she held his gaze, her grin never faltering. "Why is that ornament floatin'?"

He shot her a small grin, the first she had seen cross his lips since the moment he came, before ducking back behind the tree, silent for a moment. "Magic."

She gave a small laugh. "Of course."

And she strung up another ornament.

An hour or so later, she glanced back to the box of ornaments, finding it completely empty. She frowned slightly, glancing back to the tree. She was sure she had had more. But, she supposed, she hadn't decorated here with these ornaments before; maybe she had simply misestimated how much they would fill up the tree.

But as she walked around the flat later on, she noticed ornaments spread throughout each room, hung on anything that could hold their weight. Well, she reasoned, she _had_ told him to hang them anywhere. She shook her head, grinning, and took each one she found to the tree, leaving only a few hanging on cupboards in the kitchen or on door handles.

When she confronted Loki about it later, he swore he had nothing to do with it, that he had put all of the ornaments he had on the tree.

She didn't believe him.

He didn't expect her to.


	6. Angel

She fit the angel on the top of the tree, smiling back at Loki as he used his magic to help her reach without a ladder. Taking a step back, she looked up at it, checking to make sure it was straight and perched safely on the top branch. He gave a small smile, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Perfect."

She blushed, knowing he wasn't talking about the tree or the angel, but didn't respond, simply laying her head on his shoulder, smiling happily.

The little boy followed his sister as she ran in front of them, pulling her hair and grinning mischievously. Rise sighed, pulling away from Loki's side and ignoring the small sigh he gave in return. "Don't pull your sister's hair. An' watch out for the Christmas tree. Don't want it tippin' over like last year."

The little boy halted, staring back at her with eyes so like his father's. "But that was Daddy's fault."

Rose hid a grin at the memory, and could tell that Loki was stifling a laugh as he also recalled the Christmas Eve previous. "I know. An' he's not goin' to do it again. But d'you want it to be your fault this year?"

The little boy shook his head furiously, glancing at the tree before running into the other room with his sister to play with some toy or another. Rose let out a small laugh, watching him and leaning into Loki's side as he stepped forward to wrap an arm around her once more. A few minutes passed as they stood there quietly, contented by the simple familiarity of it all, before she felt Loki's breath in her ear as he spoke. "You're my angel, Rose."

She glanced back at him, giving a small confused frown, unsure of how to respond.

He nodded once towards the tree, his voice quiet as he pulled her even closer. "That's the angel you have used since the first Christmas we knew each other. She watched the first year when we barely spoke a word to one another, and she watched as we grew closer, as we decorated together the next year and as we became a family. She has been there watching over us for years, just as you have been watching over me since the day we met. You have helped me more than you realize, my Rose. You have kept me sane and made me happier than I have ever dared to be before. You are my angel, always watching over me."

She didn't even notice the tears until his thumb was wiping them away. And still, she didn't know how to reply verbally, rising onto her tiptoes and kissing him softly, gently, saying a million things mere words couldn't.

A few seconds passed before she pulled away slightly, looking up into the emerald eyes she loved so much, her lips ghosting over his. "I love you."

He gave a small smile. "And I love you, my Rose."

Their lips met once more.


	7. Pie

He stepped into their room, where she was curled up on the bed, willing her throat to stop hurting, trying to think of the best way to tell her. A few seconds passed as he stood there, simply watching her. It seemed the colder weather brought on sniffly noses and sore throats in humans. She was never this calm and this quiet for this long. And sadly, he would have to change that. "Rose?"

At the tone of his voice, she opened her eyes, glancing up at him. "What did you-" She cleared her throat, sniffled. "What did you do?"

He gave a sheepish smile. "I was trying to surprise you."

She sighed slightly before sitting up, raising an eyebrow, half-joking. "You didn't set fire to the kitchen, did you?"

His silence gave her an answer she didn't expect.

Trying to hide the small smile that was trying to show itself, she stood up, brushing past him as she headed towards the kitchen, and he followed, cursing his inability to take care of her the way he wanted to.

She had left a recipe for an apple pie-probably for Christmas later that week-on the counter earlier when she had decided to take a nap, and he had decided that when she woke up, the pie in the picture would be sitting on the counter, perfectly baked, no magic involved. She had given him enough lessons in preparing food. He had been sure he could do this.

Now, it was sitting on the counter just as he had planned, but the edges and most of the top was black and crumbly, rendered inedible. And he hoped she wouldn't notice the scorch marks on the counters near the oven. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but it had caught fire. Thankfully, he had been able to put it out quickly, but with the pie still smoking a bit, he figured it was better to tell her now rather than later.

She was smiling at him as she stood near the pie, sniffling once more. "Were you tryin' to make this for me?"

He nodded slightly, and her smile widened as she took a few steps closer to him. "I can teach you how to make a pie without burnin' the flat to the ground when I'm better, yeah?"

He felt himself smile in return. "That sounds preferable."

She laughed. "I thought so."

He smiled at her for another moment before she felt his cold lips on her burning ones, and she pulled away almost immediately. "I don't want to get you sick."

He kissed her quickly. "You won't. And if you do, it is worth it."

A week later, when he was laying sick in bed, she made him a pie.

It didn't burn.


	8. Tinsel

He gave a small sigh as she pulled out the first few strands of tinsel, draping them over the tree's branches. It may be beautiful, may reflect the light well, but it seemed such a…with lack of a better word, _Midgardian_ way of doing things. No magic, no other way of achieving the same effect existed. Only strands of shiny plastic could supposedly mimic the effects of ice. And if he was honest, he could do much better, especially knowing ice the way that he did.

But she seemed so engrossed by it, so excited to put it onto the tree living with them—which was a whole different problem—that he hadn't said a word. That, and he enjoyed her happiness. Somehow, this simple Midgardian girl had captured his attention just as this tinsel was meant to do.

But you couldn't fall in love with tinsel.

He shook his head slightly. She didn't know, and she could never know. She was leaving soon, no matter how many smiles she gave, no matter how many nightmares he helped her through, no matter how much he had changed. So he simply stood there, watching as she draped the tinsel over the branches, a look of calm concentration on her face, and he told himself for the five hundredth time that week—he'd counted—that he had to resist every urge to wrap his arms around her and press his lips to hers, had to resist every time his mind instructed him to tell her just how he felt. Because it was better this way.

It was best if she paid more attention to her Midgardian decorations than she did to him.

She glanced back at him as she flipped off the lights, giving a small smile. "What'cha think of it? Is there enough?" She stepped back from the tree, trying to answer her question on her own.

Pulled out of his thoughts, he tore his eyes away from her, glancing to the tree. "Beautiful." And she was. But of course, she wouldn't take it as a compliment.

She nodded slightly. "I thought so too."

He gave a small smile, waving his hand slightly. "Though I am sure I could help improve it. If you'd let me."

She hesitated, quite familiar with his penchant for mischief. "Promise you won't mess it up?"

He didn't reply, simply waving his hand once more, the tinsel seeming to drip off the branches as it formed into icicles. The light danced off these, filling the room with a glow only Christmas lights could achieve, and Rose turned to him, grinning, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. "Thank you."

His smile remained as he hugged her back gently, pushing away every thought that advised him to finally tell her.

Because she wasn't his, no matter what he did for her.


	9. Ice Skating

He looked at her skeptically as she held up skates for him to put on. "Rose, I am sure that I could accomplish the same thing without the footwear. It looks ridiculous."  
She laughed. "That's part of the fun, though. An' anyway, they need to look like this. Somethin' about your ankles gettin' supported."

He sighed slightly, resentfully agreeing before taking the skates from her and putting them on while she did the same with hers.

A few minutes later, they were stepping onto the ice, Rose grabbing the edge of the rink almost immediately. "I've never actually done this before, even though I've always thought it looked fun. An' I wasn't lettin' you sit in the flat all day. You did that enough when you first came here."

She took a few tentative steps across the ice, gliding only a few inches at a time, never letting go of the wall, convinced that she would fall if she did.

Loki gave a small smile. "I am sure it's obvious that I have never done this either, though I cannot say it will make a difference."

She glanced back at him, watching as he stepped onto the ice before confidently making his way over to her, and she gave a small huff. "Not fair."

He felt a small laugh escape him as he took her hand, and she glanced up to him. "Trust me. I will not let you fall."

Her look mirrored his earlier skeptical one as she let go of the wall, and soon they were gliding across the ice, any worries about falling left behind. She was laughing, purposely bumping into him every few seconds, and he was smiling fully as he watched her, allowing his mind to drift to scenarios he knew weren't likely, with the canon. She made him so blissfully happy simply by being there that he couldn't help it, couldn't help imagining them here a few years down the road, a little girl holding their hands as they guided her over the ice.

Because no matter what Rose said or did, she couldn't help the fact that he was hopelessly in love with her, and though she was still working on the canon, she couldn't help that she felt the same way about him. So he pushed any doubts away, enjoying the fact that at that moment, she was his and he was hers, and today, at least, nothing could change that.

He couldn't know that at that moment, she was planning a speech addressed to her boss that would result in her being taken off the team working on the canon.

Because she had made her choice, and a few years down the road, the figments of his imagination would become reality.


	10. Frost

It was only a few days before Christmas when Rose walked into the living room with a cup of hot chocolate, sighing as she dropped next to him on the couch.

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow as she settled next to him, asking her a question wordlessly, because he knew she would explain if she really wanted to.

She gave a small huff after a few moments, staring out the window. "It doesn't feel like Christmas without snow."

Loki felt a smirk trying to show itself, amused that such a small thing could cause such a reaction from his blue and yellow human, before he reached out and rested his fingers on the glass of the window behind them, a patchwork of frost spreading out from his fingers.

Her eyes lit up as she quickly straightened up, a grin appearing almost immediately. "You didn't tell me you could do that."

"You forget I am part of your mythology. In more ways than one." In response to her raised eyebrow, he continued, a smirk still pulling at the edges of his mouth. "I believe the name they assigned to me was Jack Frost."

Her mouth fell open, still grinning, stunned into silence for a moment. A few seconds passed before she grabbed a pillow, hitting him in the side with it and then collapsing into the couch. "I don't believe that for a minute. First it was the Doctor tryin' to convince me he's Father Christmas, an' now you're sayin' you're Jack Frost. An' I don't believe either of you." A pause. Her grin widened as she went on. "Though I have to say, your face when I mentioned him made me a bit more willin' to pretend I believe it. You two would have each other's heads."

She was staying, that was clear, and so the casual mention of the man she had once loved didn't bother him as much as it once would have. Those were two of the most influential years of her life; he couldn't expect her to pretend they had never happened. But he couldn't help the hatred that he felt every time the Doctor was mentioned.

His mischievous smile didn't waver as he replied. "Have you entertained the possibility that you were the final breaking point in our resentment of one another? That we might have met before?"

Still grinning, she shook her head before leaning into his side, speaking to him from her position on his shoulder. "I think you're just tryin' to use your powers on me, my god of mischief. I know you far too well for that. You tense up when you're lyin' to me."

His smile widened, before pressing his lips to her head. "You know me far too well. You could be dangerous if you decide to use your abilities against me, Rose. I am sure I could convince countless others that I truly am part of your Christmas tradition."

She reached up to kiss him softly. "That doesn't matter, 'cause I know you better than they do. I can tell when you're messin' with me. You might not live as a god anymore, but you still like mischief far more than anyone I've ever met." She held her hand up in front of her, smiling at the ring from only a few weeks before. "An' you always will. Though I have to ask you not to pull anythin' at our weddin'."

He let out a quiet laugh, a sound she still didn't hear often, but was welcomed when she did. "I will not, my Rose, unless I am sure you would approve."

She kissed him once more. "I love you, Loki."

"And I love you, Rose."

Outside, the snow began falling.


	11. Eggnog

Rose was pulling a carton out of the refrigerator as she replied to something he had said, speaking over her shoulder. "I'm goin' to have to go in tomorrow to work on the canon. We're close to a breakthrough."

He sighed slightly, forcing himself to stop focusing on the dark circles under her eyes and willing himself not to notice the sparkle that momentarily returned to them as she told him this, refusing to allow the statement to sink in and remind him that she was leaving. "I did not think you worked on Christmas."

She sighed as well as she grabbed a cup and began pouring herself some of whatever was in the carton, glancing up at him as she poured, even though she refused to meet his eyes. "I don't. Not usually. But we're so close, Loki. Any day now it'll be done, an' I'll be able to go back, Christmas or not."

He closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to get into this again, because he knew that if he said any of the things that were racing through his mind right now, it would turn into an argument, and it would all end with slamming doors and silence.

So he turned his eyes to the drink she was now sipping out of her cup, raising an eyebrow. "What is that?"

Thrown off guard by the seemingly random change in topic, she glanced down at her cup before holding it out to him. "Eggnog. Want a sip?"

"And what is eggnog?"

She shrugged slightly, giving a small smile. "Try it."

Still with an eyebrow raised, he took the cup before taking a sip. The drink was cold, the texture of milk, though maybe a bit thicker, and when he swallowed, it left behind the unmistakable taste of pumpkin pie—Rose had made one a few weeks previously, and he had fallen in love with the Midgardian treat. He handed it back to her, giving a small smile before promptly making his own way to the refrigerator to get his own. She gave a small laugh as she watched him, mentally adding pumpkin spice eggnog to the list of things she needed to buy more often.

A small smile remained on his face as he returned the carton to the shelf, taking another sip and simply watching her for a moment.

If a simple drink was enough to avoid an argument on one of her last days here, was enough to let them enjoy their last bit of time together, it was worth the confusion he caused her by coming off as indifferent to her working schedule. He needed to build up that wall again anyway, because he couldn't—wouldn't—let her see how much the ticking of the clock was affecting him.

Odd as it was, these simple traditions were the things that would keep him sane in the time he had left with her.


	12. Cider

She sighed as she sat the steaming mug of apple cider in front of him, watching him closely before settling in across from him, crossing her arms, silent. He glanced down at the drink before flicking his eyes upward in a silent question. She raised her eyebrows back, her eyes never leaving his as she dared him to object, dared him to tell her that this wasn't fitting for a god.

It had been nearly impossible, over the last week or so, to find anything that he wouldn't insult, saying it was beneath him, whether he tried it or not. It was like trying to figure out the new new Doctor's likes and dislikes again (he hated pears, loved the smell of roses, and was addicted to the taste of her toothpaste), though that had involved much more joking and laughing.

To her, it seeemed that Loki was suffering from a case of hurt pride, and was trying to take it back any way he could. And at the moment, the only way he could take it back was by insulting her and making himself feel superior.

But of course, she wouldn't stand for that.

So they were stuck in a deadlock, him refusing to drink the cider while she stared him down, daring him to object to the drink verbally.

An eternity seemed to pass before he gave in, reaching forward slowly to grab the mug, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. He gave a small nod as he swallowed, insults absent for the first time in a week.

A few moments passed.

He avoided her eyes, all of a sudden acting inferior, as though losing a battle of wills againt Rose Tyler was something to be ashamed of. His voice was quiet as he spoke to the couch that she was sitting on. "Thank you. For everything you have done for me, despite how I have acted towards you."

Because as much as he hated to admit it, he owed her for saving his life.

Bending to her her will, especially in a situation as trivial as this, wasn't nearly enough to begin paying her back.

But it was something, and he didn't want any more debts.


	13. Peppermint

She wrinkled her nose as he opened yet another peppermint candy cane, and he gave an amused smile in response, wrapping an arm around her.

"Why d'you have to eat so many of those?"

A small laugh escaped him as he kissed her, leaving a taste of the cool candy on her lips, and she rubbed her hand over her mouth to get rid of it. "You should not have introduced me to them if you didn't want me to like them."

She smiled slightly. "I don't care if you like them. But don't you think this is a bit...much?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I've only eaten a few."

She laughed. "But one is perfectly enough, yeah? You smell like you've swallowed Father Christmas."

He smiled mischievously. "Maybe I did."

"I don't think so. If not 'cause doin' that would make you certifiably insane, but 'cause Madison would kill ya."

"That's true." A pause. "Maybe I didn't. But that does not change the fact that these are the best candies you have introduced me to."

She shook her head slightly, smiling. "I can't agree with you on that. But I'll get you some more if you want."

He smiled, glancing up as Madison ran in, grinning and looking up at Rose. "Mommy, can I have a candy cane? Pleeeasseee?"

Rose wrinkled her nose once again, smiling. "You sure you want some?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Loki. "I didn't even think you had tried any yet."

He grinned slightly. "I might have allowed her a taste yesterday."

She shook her head, still smiling as she sighed slightly, turning to the counter behind her to grab the box of candy canes. "Fine. But only one, okay? You don't need the entire box like your dad."

Madison giggled as she looked at Loki. "Can I have more like you did, daddy?"

He hid a smile, knowing that giving her the answer they both wanted to hear would set Rose off; she was already watching him with her arms crossed, waiting for his answer, Madison's candy cane in one hand.

He shook his head slightly, making a mental note to pocket a candy cane to give to her later. "Not right now."

Madison sighed dramatically, grinning as Rose handed her the peppermint stick, already unwrapped, and she stuck it into her mouth immediately, not giving the red colouring time to melt onto her hands before she finished it off.

Rose smiled as she watched her, leaning into Loki's side as he wrapped an arm around her.

Maybe she'd have to get used to peppermint.


	14. Gingerbread

She was standing at the counter, an assembled gingerbread house sitting in front of her, white icing holding it together, when he came over, wrapping an arm around her. She glanced back at him, smiling, before stepping away slightly to point out a bag of assorted candy. "Thought we'd decorate it together."

Two bags of candy and a good amount of icing later (most of which was now in their stomachs or on their faces), the gingerbread house was fully decorated. She wiped the tip of his nose with her finger before bringing it to her lips and licking the frosting off, grinning slightly. "You don't want to be mistaken for a gingerbread man."

He grinned back, pushing back thoughts of the path that such a mistake—if you could call it that—would make, because he knew that it certainly would not end innocently. He raised a finger to her nose, wiping some frosting off her face as well. "And you do not want to be mistaken for my gingerbread wife."

She hesitated in her response, glancing down as a light blush showed itself on her cheeks, because here was something that they hadn't discussed before. She was staying, had made that choice a long time ago, but not until recently had they both allowed this fact to sink in, had they fully realized what her choice meant. He had realized it first, knew the implications of it and knew that she meant it much quicker than she did, because for the first few months, she had wondered if she had made the right choice.

Now, she knew she had.

But it was still a sensitive subject, the mention of the future, no matter how much each of them thought about it privately.

He gave a small frown. "What's wrong, Rose?"

She shook her head slightly. "Nothin'. Nothin' in the least." She glanced up, giving a small smile. "But I think I _would_ like to be mistaken for your wife."

He smiled in return, kissing her softly. "A mistake will not be needed, someday."

"I would hope not."

And their lips met once more.


	15. Presents

The doorbell rang, and Rose called up the stairs as she handed Eira—only three years old—a cup of chocolate milk. "Madison, Cyan's here!" She watched Eira for a moment to make sure she wouldn't spill before walking over to the door and opening it, smiling at the man she and Loki had allowed to become family over the past few years. "Hi Cyan." She glanced into the other room. "Madison should be comin' in a few seconds."

At that moment, the twenty-two year old hurried in, grinning as she pulled her raven black hair into a bun, walking past them and grabbing her coat, grinning at Cyan. "Hey. Where are we going?"

He smiled back, always amused by her complete inability to be patient, even when he told her in advance that he wasn't going to spoil the surprise. "If I tell you, you won't be surprised. Trust me, you'll love it. Or at least, I hope you will."

She gave a small laugh. "I always do, don't I?" She finished putting on her coat, glancing back at Rose as she left. "Bye mum."

Rose watched them leave, a small smile on her face because Madison was so unaware of Cyan's nervousness, so unaware of the fact that in just a few hours, she was going to be thinking only of white dresses and the future. They left, and she remained there for a few more seconds before going to find Loki, who was busy trying to keep Eira out of the closet where the presents were hidden, telling her to go find her brother and sister instead of coming in here. The chocolate milk lay forgotten on the floor.

Rose gave a small laugh as she picked up the cup and handed it to Eira before redirecting the little girl out of the room and closing the door behind her. Sighing happily, she laid a hand on her stomach, feeling a small kick from the child growing within her as Loki stepped over, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her once. "Madison's gone?"

She gave a small nod, grinning up at him. "She'll probably be callin' here soon."

He nodded as well, pushing away the thoughts of how his little daddy's girl was about to be pledged to Cyan forever, how she was no longer the little girl that had bounced on their bed every Christmas at five in the morning to request that they start opening presents. He had no idea how Pete had allowed Rose to be his so many years ago, because despite how much he liked Cyan, he was half convinced that maybe he should go tell him that he had changed his mind. But of course, he wouldn't do that to either of them. "And she did not suspect a thing?"

"Nothin'." A pause. "Maybe we should've had him wait until after Christmas, 'cause our presents aren't goin' to be nearly as good. 'Specially since we had such a hard time figurin' out what she wanted."

He gave a small laugh. "She certainly is getting what she wanted. Just not from us."

She nodded slightly, smiling, thinking back to the day he had proposed—he hadn't even bought a ring yet, had simply known it was the time to do it. And she had requested he show his true Jotun self before kissing him, accepting with tears in her eyes, because after everything, after all the pain she had put him through, he still wanted to spend forever with her.

He watched her, his beautiful Rose, remembering how terrified he had been, even then, that she would reject him, would remind him that she still loved the Doctor. But she hadn't, and they had been married in a quiet ceremony after hours of convincing Jackie they didn't need a huge party. And now, years later, they had a family that was still growing, because it would be only a few more months before they brought home their fifth child.

She had given him more than he could have ever asked for. More than just a present or a promise, but acceptance, love. Happiness, for the first time in his life.

He smiled, holding her a bit tighter and speaking quietly into her ear, somewhat reluctant to leave their comfortable silence. "They're quiet."

She gave a small sigh, still smiling, as she glanced back at him. "We should probably get out there before they do some—"

_CRASH!_

Her eyes widened as she pulled away from him, and they hurried out to find their Christmas tree lying on the floor, half the ornaments in pieces. Loki waved a hand to put it back up, repairing the ornaments in the process, before wrapping his arms around Rose, who had burst into tears at seeing irreparable ornaments shattered. He sighed, watching over her shoulder as Eira and her brother and sister laughed and ran off to play some other game.

Maybe one of their Christmas presents would be lessons on how to control their magic.


	16. Fireplace

Madison was leaning into the quiet fireplace, looking up into the chimney as well as she could. "How's he supposed to come through there?"

Rose glanced at Loki with a small smile, and he returned it as they answered Madison at the same time. "Magic."  
Madison's eyebrows shot up, and she turned, grinning and narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the top of the fireplace. "Really?"

Rose nodded slightly. "Really."

Madison gave a small nod as well, frowning and seeming to think about this for a moment. "Is he like me?"

Rose and Loki hesitated, glancing at each other and having a frantic, but completely silent, conversation, their eyes piercing as they agreed on what should be said. Eventually, Loki gave a small nod to Rose and turned back to Madison, nodding once more. "He's like us."

Her entire face seemed to light up as she repeated him in a sing-song voice. "Father Christmas is like me. Father Christmas is like me."

Rose gave a small laugh as she drew closer to Loki, watching as Madison looked up the fireplace once more, a sense of wonder in her eyes. But after a few moments, her smile faded, looking worried as she glanced back at her parents once more. "But what if there's a fire in the fireplace?"

Rose glanced to Loki, having absolutely no answer, but he only gave a small smile, keeping his eyes on the little girl, already filled with so much curiosity and such a great concern for others. "Madison, what have you been learning about your magic and fire?"

Her face scrunched up as she looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember exactly what he had told her. A few moments passed before her face lit up once more, proud of herself for remembering. "It might hurt us more, but we can make ice to make it stop?"

He nodded, still smiling slightly. "You're right. It might be difficult, but we can. And Father Christmas has a lot of experience with magic. He can keep himself safe, no matter what."

She nodded once more before glancing back to the fireplace again. "He can?"

"He can."

"Can we put out cookies for him?"

Rose grinned, glancing to Loki for just a moment before nodding. "Yeah. We can make them tomorrow. But now it's time for bed, yeah?"

Madison nodded enthusiastically before running off to get her pajamas on, and they watched her leave before smiling at each other and pulling apart, Loki automatically heading upstairs to grab Madison's favorite book and Rose going to help her get ready for their nightly ritual.


	17. Stockings

The first few Christmases he had spent here, he hadn't asked, simply going along with the tradition because every other explanation she had given him had seemed so far removed from anything that made sense to him. So he had watched as she hung one and then two stockings on the wall in the flat, and now over the fireplace in their house. He had even put them up himself last year when she was too sick to decorate and he wanted to surprise her.

But this year, even though he knew it mattered little, now that he had been pledged to a life here, curiosity overtook him as she led him down an aisle in a store somewhere in the city he had never been before, searching for a third stocking for the child that was due to join them right around Christmas.

"Rose, what is the purpose of these stockings anyway?"  
She glanced back at him, shrugging slightly as she looked at the stockings. "You put them over the fireplace, an' put little presents an' sometimes candy inside. I'm not sure where or when it started or anythin'."

He raised an eyebrow. "You hang socks over a fire so you can put food and presents in them, take them down and take them back out again."  
She smiled, shaking her head slightly, amused. "You always make it all sound so simple an' silly. It's tradition. You can't always explain it, but you can't just stop doin' it."

He gave a small grin. "Except I never did it before you introduced me to this holiday."  
"Well I'm not stoppin', so help me pick somethin' out, yeah?"

"Of course."


	18. Cookies

It was late.

He was sleeping, his clothes strewn on the floor, as she slipped out of bed, ignoring the guilt that was threatening to overtake her, to pull her back to bed, to deter her from her mission.

It was cold in the flat as she picked her clothes off the floor, throwing them with the rest of the dirty clothes before sifting silently through her dresser and pulling out, among other things, a pink tank top and a blue jacket. She slipped them on and ran a comb through her hair, ignoring every instinct that told her to glance back, to leave a note, to say goodbye.

But no, her goodbye had been the last memories they had made yesterday, from the cookies to last night. If she turned to look at him now, everything would fall to pieces. She couldn't let her wonderful god of mischief stop her now, not when she was so close.

The cannon had been finished a few days before, giving her time to settle things with her mum and Pete and say her goodbyes, giving her time to give one last day of mischief to Loki. He deserved that, at least.

She shivered as she forced herself out the door, grabbing the necklace he had bought for her, one with a blue snake curling around the stem of a rose. She had always thought it was an oddly coincidental thing to find.  
But now it was all she had to remind her of him.

The door closed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He opened his eyes, his gaze immediately landing on her side of the bed. Empty. Not slept in. Not for long, anyway. She had been there last night, had been smiling at him, still smelling of cookies and flour, right before their lips met and time began flying.

He gave a small sigh as he slipped out of bed, pulling on his clothes and heading out to the kitchen where she was normally making breakfast.

She wasn't there.

He felt a dull sense of dread beginning to try and overtake him, giving him the urge to scream before he even knew for sure what had happened. She had never gone to Torchwood this early, had never gone to Torchwood at all without letting him know. He began walking slowly through the flat, checking everywhere, just in case, because she would have told him if the cannon was done.

But the flat was empty, and if he was honest with himself, cleaner than usual, her things put away neatly where they should be for the first time since he came; other than the simple presence of her things, there was no proof that anyone else had lived there with him.

She hadn't left him anything, no goodbye, no note. Only cookies and alone.

Swallowing his dread, he sat down numbly on the couch.

She had told him she wasn't leaving.

She had lied.

Yesterday had been a lie, and so had every kiss, every "I love you." Because she didn't. She had left him for her precious Doctor after everything, after he had trusted her with his fragile heart, after he had shown her just how broken he was and had allowed her to fix him. And now it was all in vain, because no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to please, he was never good enough, was never worthy.

Of course not. He was a monster.

But that didn't make it any easier.

He didn't bite back the scream this time, shooting up from the couch and pacing, grief and rage and heartbreak and anger pulsing through him at alarming rates, his hands searching for anything he could throw, could damage, could destroy.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring the tears that were beginning to spill onto his cheeks. Gods didn't cry. But she had taken down the wall he had put up, slowly edging in until he was vulnerable, and stabbed him until what spilled out wasn't blood—no, nothing so trivial.

His hands found nothing, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was in the kitchen, picking up the cookies that they had baked yesterday and hurling them across the flat, slamming his fists into the wall when they ran out and ignoring the blood that was spilling onto both his hands and the wall.  
Because she had lied, had convinced him that she was done with her fantasies about returning to a world where she could run away from all her problems, had convinced him that she loved him, that she cared, that she didn't hate him like everyone else did. He had never understood why. But now it was obvious it had all been a plot, from the very beginning, for her temporary gratification while he suffered the consequences.

He couldn't be affected by this; why he wasn't used to being hated by now, he didn't know. But he couldn't let anyone, including himself, acknowledge that a simple Midgardian girl had brought him to his knees. It was ridiculous.

So even as the rage left him and he found himself sliding down against the wall numbly, face in his hands, he destroyed every thought, every moment that he had ever considered a future where he was happy. Because he seemed destined to have everything ripped away from him, no matter how small. He was destined to live as a monster, despised and worthless, gaining gratification only for a few months before he was brought lower than he ever had been brought before.

It wasn't worth it, trying to find happiness anymore.

So he would fulfill this destiny, would return to the world of his brother and do what he was meant to do—wreck havoc.

Outside, the rain turned to hail.


	19. Santa

Six-year-old Madison grabbed Cyan's forearm, pulling him towards the line as his sister rushed after them.

"C'mon, Cyan, we're going to see Father Christmas!"

Rose and Jessica hurried after them, laughing at Madison's enthusiasm, hoping that their husbands would be able to find them, even if they weren't where they had said they would be.

The three kids had inherited such a thirst for adventure from their parents, it wasn't (always) their fault that when given a suggestion they would be halfway across the mall before anyone realized what had happened, especially now that Madison had started basic magic lessons with Loki and was able, on good days, to make it look like she was still in Rose's peripheral vision when she wasn't.

The two of them caught up to the kids, who were waiting at the back of the line excitedly, babbling on about what Santa would bring them. Rose sighed happily as she stood on her tiptoes to see how long the line was, jumping as Loki slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her quickly on the cheek.

"I didn't scare you, did I?"

She gave a small laugh. "'f course not."

He smiled in return, nodding once to the front of the line. "What is this for?"  
She shrugged slightly, smiling. "Father Christmas."

Loki shook his head, amused, as he watched the two children. "I'm sure there is going to be another one at your mother's party. Could we have not seen him there?"

"Cyan an' Noelle wouldn't be there. I'm sure they'd rather see him together. An' anyway, a ten minute wait never hurt anyone."

"You're sure that this is one of the essential traditions?"

She laughed, hitting his arm lightly. "Oh stop. You'll be fine."

The line moved forward a step or two, setting the children off once more, laughing about something or other, and Jessica grinned at Loki before excusing herself to go find her own husband, a man who had once been an angel, had once watched as her life fell apart due to a copy of the man Rose had once traveled with. He had helped her recover, had stepped in as a father to Cyan and Noelle, and they had been married only a few months after the twins were born. He was human, now, and he and Jessica had long ago been accepted into the small family Rose and Loki had started.

Madison, Noelle, and Cyan had grown up seeing each other nearly every day, and the three children were nearly inseparable, hardly ever going a day without asking when they were going to see each other next.

The group had become a family, even if there truly was no link between Jessica and Rose, who were like sisters and who were the glue that had brought the untraditional group together in the first place. But, untraditional as it was, it was perfect for the two families, as well as Madison, Cyan and Noelle, who would grow up to do much more together than see Santa.


	20. Sled

Rose laughed as the sled began sliding down the hill, gaining speed much quicker than she would have expected it to (though she figured that was Loki's fault—not that she minded). She had convinced him to come out with her about an hour before with a grin, tongue between her teeth, promising him that she would make this simple favour up to him _later_. He had reluctantly agreed—though he refused to wear anything more than a t-shirt—and she had hurried off to pull on her coat, boots, mittens, and scarf.

Now, even if he wouldn't admit it to her, she knew that he was enjoying it, smiling as they slid down the hill and even laughing every once in a while as she stumbled into the snow when they began the trek back up—though, of course, he would then help her up, Rose slipping her newly ringed hand into his and following him up the hill once more.

She wrapped her arms around him as they began sliding down the hill once more, and he smiled back at her as he felt her warm breath in his ear.

But his loss of concentration for that one moment was enough to make him lose control over the sled's direction, and when he glanced forward once more, his eyes widened before he dove off the side, pulling Rose with him, the sled crashing into a huge pile of snow. He rolled off her quickly, concerned, but after a few moments, she sat up, laughing. He felt himself smile as well as he watched her, standing up and brushing the snow off of himself before offering a hand to her.

She grinned at him, then, and he caught a glimmer of mischief in her eyes before she took his hand and pulled, bringing him tumbling back into the snow next to her. In a moment, her frozen lips were pressing to his, and they fell back into the snow.  
The cold became irrelevant.


	21. Snowman

After watching yet another Christmas special, this time about a talking snowman, Rose had pulled on her coat, boots, and mittens, slipping her hand into his, and had pulled him out here, convinced that they needed to make their own snowman.

For the first few minutes, he simply watched with a raised eyebrow as she rolled up the newly fallen snow, glancing over to him every few moments, and eventually standing up and stepping right in front of him, grinning, hands on her hips.  
"You can't just stand there an' watch, god of mischief. I don't care if it's beneath you to roll up some snow. You're goin' to do it with me, 'cause you wouldn't have let me drag you out here unless you were goin' to do more than just stand there an' watch me."

He suppressed a smile, reminding himself for the tenth time since they came out here exactly why she was off limits, why he shouldn't close that short distance between them now as she teased him about making a silly snowman. Because what did that matter? Years from now, flipping through a scrapbook of their time together in his mind, what significance would a simple man of snow hold when he had lost her, when she was gone and had forgotten him, when she was traversing the stars once more with her star crossed Doctor? Wouldn't everything finally be worth it, wouldn't everything be more important, if he made the leap, even if she let him slip and it all exploded around him?

His intense gaze never left hers as he waved a hand absentmindedly, and behind her, the snow assembled itself into a perfect snowman. She pulled her eyes away from his for a moment to glance back at the snow. "Oi!" She glanced back to him. "That's not ho—"

She was cut off by his lips pressing cautiously to hers, and she froze, her mind seemingly unable to tell her what to do. After just a moment, he pulled, eyebrows flicking upwards, and after a moment, unsure, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes to resume the kiss, all thoughts of snowmen gone.

He smiled.


	22. Jingle Bells

They were walking through a park hand in hand, leaving quiet footprints in the snow that dusted the ground. Christmas lights were strung up in the trees surrounding them, and though Loki was wearing only a t-shirt (and a light jacket so as not to stick out too much), Rose was wearing a long coat, scarf pulled up over her nose and one hand stuffed in her pocket.

They passed a few minutes in silence before a faint ringing reached their ears, and Rose's grip on his hand tightened immediately, her steps lengthening as she broke into a run, grinning back at him.

"Rose, where are we going?" he asked as he ran after her in the darkness, just hoping that he wouldn't step on any ice. It'd be ironic, he supposed, a Frost Giant slipping on the ice, but he wasn't looking forward to a night of Rose looking at him sympathetically as he winced, sore from crashing into the pavement.

She glanced back over her shoulder, grinning. "Our next date."

A minute or two passed before she slowed down, walking over to where a horse and carriage was waiting, empty. After a quick exchange with the driver, they were sitting in the back as the carriage bumped down the road, the soft sound of jingle bells floating through the air. She sighed happily, leaning into him as they silently watched the snow covered world pass them by, having only the stars ahead to light them on their way.

And that was the moment she knew she couldn't leave.


	23. Carols

The music could be heard throughout the flat, each track with varying amounts of bells and vocals and mentions of snow. Loki had learned to put up with it over the past few weeks, knowing that something about the Midgardian music made his beautiful Rose happier than he could make her in the past few weeks-the dimension cannon had suffered several setbacks, and now it was debatable whether or not the group would continue to work on it. And no matter how hard he tried to comfort her, it seemed as if this music did a better job at helping her than he did some days.

But it wasn't rare for them to pass each other on their way to one room or another, for Rose to hear a quiet "magic hats and talking snowmen?" or "reindeer of any sort do not have glowing noses." She would hide a smile, pretending to be annoyed at his supposed confusion. And it wasn't hard, considering.

"Is it truly necessary to mention that drummers drum, Rose?"

"No, but it wouldn't sound right if you just said twelve drummers. An' anyway, it's supposed to be fun. It's not supposed to make as much sense as some of the other ones."

"None of the others make sense either."

"To you, maybe not, but some of them, at least, have kid's stories that go along with them. Makes sense to them, even if it can't happen in real life. An' if drummers drummin' is the biggest thing you can criticize in that song, you're losin' your negativity."

He sighed. "Is there not something else one could choose to write about?"

"Yeah, but do you really want a bunch of serious songs? 'f course they're out there, but I'd rather listen to these."

He sighed once more, knowing that there was no way he would convince her that these nonsensical songs weren't worth listening to. So he put up with them.

One of her presents from him, when Christmas came, was a charm bracelet with the twelve presents from the song on it. Of course, that wasn't her only present-he also gave her a necklace: a rose with a snake curled around the stem; and a ring that he kept in his room for a day when she was ready, a day which didn't come for quite a while.

But for the next Christmases and all the Christmases after, if there was one present she could count on, it was something relating to a tradition he had questioned that year-usually carols, and usually the twelve days of Christmas.

And when he ran out of things to honestly question, he began asking about the things that he had always thought made sense, or had always accepted-such as mistletoe. That year, he was rewarded with many more kisses than usual, their children covering their eyes every time their parents walked into a room together.

It became their own tradition, ironic as that was.

And no matter how hard he had to look for a tradition to question, it was the one he never acknowledged.


End file.
